In case you missed this news, I have a guest blog posted on the website Wisdom of the Wounded.
http://wisdomofthewounded.com/2018/02/27/when-someone-is-grieving-just-show-up-and-help/
I hope you’ll check it out and share with anyone who might need it. It dovetails nicely with my post on what to say when you don’t know what to say:
When Your Heart Wants To Help, But Your Head Has No Idea What To Say
I am sitting at the ancient dining room table writing.
As happens far too often, my concentration wanes and I look around the room. My gaze lands on the surface of the table and I notice the many scratches and stains that now live there. It has become worn and scarred from its years of use, not just as a place for meals, but as the central focus in my house.
I study the shabby veneer from my seated vantage point and then stand to see the damage more closely. My hands rub the once shiny surface as if I was reading Braille. I find one daughter’s name scratched into the spot where she so often sat. I feel pits where impatient toddlers once banged their utensils. I see ink stains where frustrated hands accidently pressed straight through their homework papers. I touch the burn marks made by meals served hurriedly to quiet hungry voices. Continue reading →
This past Sunday was the third anniversary of Neil’s death. 
I had the fortune to be on vacation for the three days prior, but drove home in the ice and snow and rain of bad winter weather. Thinking that it would be unfortunate for me to have an accident on that particular day, I drove white knuckled for several hours in silent concentration. When I realized the weather had improved but I hadn’t relaxed, I pulled over to regroup.
Refreshed with a new cup of coffee and improved visibility on the road, I treated myself to music on my I-pod. Continue reading →
Christmas cards used to be a big part of our family tradition. They were always one of a kind, designed by Neil and I. For the very first one, we cut our faces out of a family photograph and pasted them on to hand drawn snowmen. We had such fun that we kept it up year after year.
One of my favorites was the five of us standing next to a row of life sized nutcrackers. Another was a regular appearing family photo into which an extra Colleen and Jackie were added. Everyone thought there were two sets of twins. One year we glued our faces into the windows of a black and white sketched camper that was decorated with festive red and green Christmas lights. Another favorite was our family pasted on to the back of the Grinch’s sleigh, with the Grinch himself copied into the driver’s seat. And I can’t forget the year that featured our faces hidden in a sea of toys in “Where’s Waldo?” fashion.
Continue reading →
You know those incredible moments that crystalize into perfect memories you treasure forever? The ones that make you wish time could stand still and life would never change?
It was a New Year’s Eve long ago. My newborn baby, only three days old, slept peacefully in my arms. My plump, comfy chair was pulled against the French doors leading out to the deck. I could feel the cold draft and my fluffy blanket was wrapped snuggly around us. My toddler sat on the floor cuddling the dog, while her older sister hummed Christmas carols beside us.
Neil’s annual fireworks display was toned down that year, because I didn’t want to take the baby outside. Instead of the street, the fireworks were lined in a row of about twenty on the deck railing. As he hopped gleefully down the row, lighting each one as he went, he dipped and weaved to avoid the sparks and ashes. Then he retraced his steps, knocking the spent ones off the deck, lining up a new row and repeating the whole process. “Pop, pop, pop,” two-year-old Jackie exclaimed cheerfully over and over again, as we watched through the glass doors. Gina oohed and awed with each new display, and my sweet babe slept through it all. Continue reading →